Stranger
by Dlbn
Summary: His whole life, he felt like a stranger in his own skin, in his own life. Ritsuka's journey to be whole again after Soubi leaves him for Seimei.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and a few characters that aren't canon. I make NO money off writing this fic. Everything canon belongs to Yun Kouga.

000

His mother hated him. His father abandoned him. His brother betrayed him. His cousin taunted him. His aunt and uncle ignored him. The love of his life chose his brother over him. He couldn't remember who he was. No matter what he did, Aoyagi Ritsuka just couldn't get a break. He had no one, had nothing. Yet he continued to live his life of loneliness and self-loathing day in and day out, hoping it would end but not willing to end it himself. He couldn't do that to his friends, to himself. He may never remember who he was, may never earn back his mother's love, may never find Soubi or his brother again. But he'd try and hold onto what tiny shred of hope remained within him that he would. That he could be that old Ritsuka again, and the beatings would stop. That Soubi would defy his brother and come back. That Seimei would whisk him away with him to a better life, even though he knew that a life with Seimei was worse than not having a life at all. He hated the sympathetic looks from Yuiko and Yayoi when his mother yelled at him in front of them. He hated the taunts from the Zero twins when they knew he was hurt by his mother and didn't bother to fight back. He hated the few times he ran into his father and his new girlfriend out in town with her child. He hated the happy couples he saw at the park, in school, walking around Tokyo. He hated paintings and artists on the sidewalk in Yokohama. He hated everything about this world and the people in it. But he couldn't bring himself to want to destroy it, to kill people like his brother had done. He couldn't bring himself to be a monster like Beloved, so he'd stick with being a monster in his own way, his own right. A stranger in his own skin, his own home. A place where he wasn't wanted, wasn't loved or protected. He'd just go by day to day, dealing with the drama and bullshit life through his way, living day to day and month to month as long as he could. Eventually he'd find his way out of here, move away and start over; make a name for himself. He just had to last until he was seventeen or eighteen, when he could legally separate from schooling and the house he lived in and be an adult on his own. He'd gotten offers from many people-Katsuko-sensei, Zero, Kio and Akira, Hanabi, and even Septimal Moon-to get out of where he was now and get to somewhere else, but he turned down all of them. He already felt that his life was an annoyance, a burden, to everyone else. He didn't want to be even more of a pain. They'd just end up resenting him in the end, just like his mother did.

He had nowhere to call home. He was the outcast amongst outcasts in his own life, a life that didn't feel like it was even his. He felt like a stranger on the outside looking in. Behind his smile and bright eyes was a hidden life, a hidden secret and hidden pain. He did well hiding it from people most of the time. It was only in rare instances where the fragile shell he really was would shine through. He tried not to let it happen out in public or around people he knew. But sometimes he could not stop the tears from forming, his chest from tightening, his voice from cracking. Sometimes he couldn't help but have to rush to the _bathroom_ , as he claimed, just to get away from everything and let out all his anger on himself. His scars from his mother were numerous, not only on his being, but on his heart and soul as well. The scars he caused himself were few and far between. He'd always wait until the previous ones had faded, or at least begun to, before starting a new one. If his friends asked, he'd blame his mother. If his sensei and therapist asked, he tripped or got hurt moving stuff to clean up around the house. Whatever lame excuse he could give. Zero saw through him. He knew they did. Between Yoji's scoffs at his excuses and Natsuo's rolling eye whenever he tried to convince them, or anyone, that he was fine and they didn't need to worry about him, he was certain they knew. But he knew they'd never say anything. Whether it was because they respected his privacy or because they just plain didn't give a damn, he knew they'd stay silent. He knew Yoji wanted to blurt that he was full of shit. He knew that Natsuo wanted to question him until he broke down and told them the truth. For people he was certain were complete sociopaths, they sure seemed to understand how he and his rather complicated emotions worked.

Yuiko pried. Oh, how she pried. She asked questions until he felt like snapping at her or running away. But he'd never snap at her. Not after the first few times he'd done so, before they were really friends. He couldn't do that to someone he tried to trick himself into thinking was more fragile than he was. He was certain Yayoi started to notice inconsistencies in his stories, repeated excuses when he couldn't think of a new one that was believable. He didn't say anything, though. Just like Zero, he knew enough to stay silent and not provoke the Loveless sacrifice. Heh, how fitting. Loveless. One without love. If that didn't describe him, nothing did. People would argue that he was loved in many ways. By Yuiko, by his sensei, by strangers who he helped. But they didn't matter. The only one that mattered was hundreds of miles away in a location he didn't know with a brother he didn't know _anymore_. Hell, not even Seimei mattered at this point. His brother did nothing but cause him heartache and pain, while masquerading as having his best interest in mind. No matter how he tried to justify it, Seimei's actions were rash, unjustified, and selfish. Perhaps Loveless described him in more ways than one. He didn't love anyone. He had friendships and relationships with teachers and things of that ilk, but he didn't love anyone. He thought he did, back when he was young and naïve. He thought he fell in love with Soubi, sensei, Yuiko. But now he knew better. Maybe his love for Soubi was pure at the time. Maybe it was still there, lingering somewhere just below the surface. Or perhaps it was twisted into some sick obsession, some strange hope that Soubi still loved him when he most likely never did in the first place. He didn't love his mother. She'd pushed him too far, hurt him too much. He didn't love his father. The father who never wanted a second child and told his other to get rid of _it_ before he was born, and abandoned him when he needed someone to protect him the most. He didn't love his cousin and her taunting jeers. He didn't love his aunt and uncle and their casual disinterest in him or his sad excuse for a family. He didn't love Zero. They were friends, nothing more. If anything, they were just allies, people who stuck together just to save their own backsides. He knew that wasn't true, but it nagged at him in the back of his mind that it was. He didn't love Yuiko or Yayoi or Osamu, the only friends he had in this world that weren't part of the spell world or looking to use him. He didn't love his sensei or his therapist. They were just doing their jobs, nothing more. They didn't care about him outside of that. They couldn't. He didn't love Septimal Moon or its school. He would deny any affiliation with them until the day he died, if he could. And he most definitely didn't love Seimei. No, not anymore. He once said he'd love Seimei no matter what he did, but he'd still get angry when his brother fucked up. Naïve it may have been, but it was his mindset back then when he was young enough to still be naïve without taunt or question. But now, now he couldn't keep to that. Seimei found the line and he crossed it. He took Soubi, he declared _war_ on his brother. Soubi wasn't a possession, he knew. But Seimei treated him like such and used him like such so much that Soubi believed it were true. He could never forgive his brother for that. He could never forgive him from taking away his one shot at happiness, his one shot at having something, someone, who was his and his alone. Not someone he shared with Seimei or his mother or even his past self. For once he had a place where he belonged. And now it was gone. He wouldn't go so far as to say he _hated_ his brother. No, his hatred was better reserved for his name, his fate. He was…disappointed, was the nicest word he could come up with. Seimei had promoted himself as the model older brother, albeit with a hint of obsession that he now recognized as creepy and not affectionate or as normal as he had thought it to be as a child. Now he realized why people thought his closeness to his brother as a child was unnatural, why his parents tried to encourage him to have friends of his own to hang out with all the time, why his classmates picked on how close they were and how he would drop anything or change plans at the last minute in favor of spending even more time with his brother. They were more than brothers, he had thought; they were best friends. But now he knew better. Seimei wanted to be more, wanted to be partners. Not in the sexual manner everyone else had assumed, no, but partners in his fight against Septimal Moon. He himself wasn't a big fan of the group, anyone could tell you that, but his brother's idea to kill them all and replace them with his own brainwashed minions was over the top.

He tried to escape it, he really did. He felt himself going onto a downward spiral and he did what he could to get out of it. He photographed the things he liked most and surrounded himself with computer printed versions of images that were crystal clear on his computer and camera, but dull and grainy upon typical printer's paper. He'd never ask his mother or father for photography paper, but Nagisa-sensei's attempts to give him some for a birthday present came much too late and was much too little. He lost interest in the things he photographed, in photography. His once photo covered walls now lay barren, save for the corkboard that held his most precious memories, most of Soubi, some of friends; rarely containing himself as well, never alone. His bedroom was just that now. A room with a bed and a computer that he could use to his heart's content, should his heart ever be content. Even Wisdom Resurrection lost his interest over time; his account forever frozen at level fifty with two million gold and eight hundred gems to his name. he tried to draw, tried to game more and read more. But none of it held his interest. If his friends weren't forcing him to do something or inviting him to, he spent most of his time either doing homework, sleeping, or walking around Tokyo just to get away from his psychotic mother and her abuse, if only for a moment. He'd run into trouble with a few units but his complete apathy and nonchalant attitude about battling often left them bored and resulted in no battle at all, or a one-sided battle that ended with him bloody and bruised. What was another few injuries? At least they weren't from his mother, or himself. They were just physical injuries. While most were appalled or scarred by injuries, he could care less about the appearance of his skin, so long as his face was clear to give the illusion that he was alright, uninjured, unmarred. They were superficial wounds at best. They'd heal, maybe scab over. The bruises would fade, skin would be less sensitive to touch where black, blue, and yellow-green once marred his pretty skin. But the wounds on his heart, those were the ones that wouldn't heal. They'd continue to grow and burn and _fester_ until he didn't even know who he was anymore. Was this what it was like to slip into madness? Was this the slippery slope that his mother and brother, and even Seimei's true fighter Nisei-though he had to admit he was certain they were all on that slope from the start, born that way, not pushed like he-, fell down? If so, he could understand their madness, their pain. He could understand why they did what they did, said what they said, and why his past led to this future and not another. He was being influenced by more than just genetics from a young age; he just didn't know it. Part of him wondered what he knew before he lost his memories. Did he know he was slipping? Did he know his brother and mother had already fallen? Or was he as innocent as he felt when he awoke without those memories? Just how much of his world of spell battles and fighters and sacrifices did he know, but forgot? Now he had to learn everything from scratch, if he cared to do so. Yoji and Natsuo had given him some introductory instructions when they first met, and Septimal Moon members gave him snippets of advice before they left to retrieve Kio from Bloodless, but most of it he learned in practice alongside Soubi in battle. Now he could care less. Let the other units come, let the battles end before they even began. None of it mattered to him. those were just fleeting moments in his memory anyway. He didn't remember their names or faces, didn't remember their abilities or the spells they used. He didn't need to. He'd never see them again. And if he did, they wouldn't start anything; they already had their fill of battling someone so broken, so destroyed.

When Osamu popped back up in his life, she didn't understand. She didn't see the kind of monster, the hollow shell, her best friend had become. She remembered him for who he was before he lost his memories, and immediately afterwards. She remembered the last time she came to visit him at school and met Yuiko. She remembered going to the river and joking and taking photographs he didn't really want to be a part of. She didn't remember joyless grins and emotionless words. She didn't remember a monotoned voice and more scars than she could count. She tried to help, she really did. She tried to drag him out and do more photography. She showed him a new computer program he could try for free online to modify pictures. She took photographs of things she knew he liked, of him. She did what she could to revive her old friend, but her efforts were all for naught. The dead couldn't be brought back to life. Not that he was dead, and Seimei was a special case of never actually _being_ dead in the first place, but he felt dead. He might as well be dead, he supposed. What reason did he have to live, to go on, when he was so miserable and apathetic? What was his purpose for being here? Katsuko-0sensei insisted that some people don't know their purpose in life until they are older, and some may never know. But he'd be damned if whenever found out. There had to be _some_ logical reasoning for the pain and suffering he was forced to endure. He could chalk it all up to his brother's obsession twisting him to thinking that everything he did was helping his brother, was in his best interest. But Seimei didn't know everything, and Seimei was failing. All he was doing was driving his brother further and further into the abyss with his own actions.

Seimei came to him once since he took Soubi, and he was alone. He tried to land a punch, Seimei dodged it. He tried to cut his brother with his words, but Seimei was unfazed. No matter how loud he screamed, how many times he declared he hated his brother, declared he'd never join him, Seimei didn't even blink. Was his brother that unaffected by his words? Or did Seimei know all along that he was hated, and accept it long before his baby brother had the courage to voice it? though hating his brother was a lie, he hoped it stung. He hoped Seimei was just putting on an act, that when he went home he'd lose it. he didn't care if he took it out on either of his Fighters, even if one was Soubi. He didn't care for Nisei and Soubi was nothing more than a traitor to him now; a fleeting memory of feelings and emotions that no one else ever made him feel. Asking for his brother's hand in his plans one last time, Seimei departed with a hand print to the cheek and a bruised ego.

People started asking him out once he got to high school. People who he barely knew, only saw in passing. A few classmates he'd known for years even made a move or two, even though they knew what kind of person he was, what he'd become over the years. He didn't understand why. No matter how hard he tried to push people away, how little he cared for anyone else, they tried to break through to him. the school counselor even tried to talk to him, but his adamant refusal to talk to a therapist that wasn't his own sent her in the other direction to focus on bigger things, like Yoji and Natsuo's destructive natures and outright jealousy when other people flirted with their partner. But no matter how many times he was asked who asked-more males, he noticed-, he rejected every single one. His heart belonged to Soubi and Soubi only, no matter how much he might despise the elder blonde. No matter how much he may claim to hate him and say he doesn't need him and hope he doesn't come back ever, he couldn't deny that the blonde was all he had. His love might be the only thing that kept him going, even though it was buried well under the surface of the many layers that made up the personality of Loveless. He could never risk giving that up to someone else, not when he was so certain Soubi would repent and come crawling back like he did every time he did something he knew that his sacrifice objected to. His false sacrifice. No matter what they called it or how they bonded, the name he bore was shared with Seimei; his true master, though Soubi was initially a blank. They could never be a pure unit. He knew this well, knew this to be the truest truth he'd ever been told, but the logic and knowledge didn't comfort him in the slightest.

Persistent. That was the only word that he could come up with to describe the people in his life. They tried and tried and tried, no matter how fruitless their efforts, to awaken him from the darkness that swallowed him whole and bring him back to life. Yuiko, Yayoi, Hitomi, Kio, Akira, Yoji, Natsuo, Osamu…every last one of them was annoyingly persistent in their attempts. They'd team up sometimes, but they mostly tried on their own. When they met as a group, they attacked from all angles. But it was no use. He blocked them out, shut them down. Their words meant nothing; hollow, empty phrases and promises that mattered little.

When his mother kicked him out of the house when he was fourteen, he couldn't say that he was all that _surprised_. Just another inconvenient blip in time that he'd eventually get over. Coincidence landed him right in the laps of Soubi's best friend Kio and his fiancé, Akira. He didn't want to stay, but they insisted, and it eventually became his permanent home. It wasn't long before his mother was finally hauled off thanks to a teacher that asked too many of the right questions to too many of the right people. When the authorities asked, a few well-placed lies and smiles got him out of their interview room and allowed him to stay with the lovers without any interference from his father or other family members. Though, he had to admit, he was certain of his relatives honestly _cared_ what happened to him in any way, shape, or form. From his father's actions of abandoning him to his abusive mother, he knew he didn't give a damn whether Ritsuka lived or died, let alone where he lived.

If his friends were persistent, then Taro was the King of Persistency. No, the _Supreme God of Persistency_. No matter how many times he was flat out rejected or told to get lost, he would just not stop asking the Loveless sacrifice out on dates or to hang out with him and his friends. Didn't the cretin get the hint that he wanted to be left _alone_? He liked the friends he had. He didn't need new ones. And he certainly didn't need a relationship. In the end, persistency paid off and he was granted one date to make him shut up. Surprising even himself, the raven found the encounter enjoyable and agreed to another, and eventually another and another. He could feel the ice-cold barriers around his heart slowly dissolving away, letting a little bit of himself shine through the exposed cracks. But he was always careful never to let too much through, never to let Taro know too much about himself or his inner turmoil and struggles.

Keeping his friends and his relationship with Taro separate was the easy part. Keeping his life as a Sacrifice away from his normal life was not. Taro almost always seemed to be around when other Units confronted him, so much so that the raven sometimes had a hard time believing he wasn't a part of a unit as well. When he felt like someone was too close, he'd make a pitiful bathroom excuse and duck off into the shadows to deal with it away from the other teen. When he knew there wasn't a way out, he'd direct Taro's attention somewhere else and mutter a small spell he'd someone taught himself to use to shove his enemy back and let them know he meant business. He shouldn't have been able to use spells, but with how his brother was able to enclose the air around Zero so much that it would have choked them to death had Ritsuka not burst into the library when he did, it didn't shock him that he had some other abilities as well.

He could handle his mother's beatings. He could handle his father abandoning him and never speaking to him again. He could handle Seimei coming and going from his life. He could handle Soubi choosing his brother. He'd been through so much, he could handle all of it. Or so he thought. That cockiness would catch up to him the first night he and Taro fought and he was rewarded with a nice bruised cheek, and an even darker bruised ego. He couldn't remember what they fought about, but his ego would not mend, their relationship could not be fixed. For wat felt like the millionth time in his life, someone who claimed to love him did nothing but hurt him.

He was sixteen years old when he got the news from the psychiatric facility that his mother was incarcerated in that she passed. Suicide with a scalpel they didn't know she had had on her. He expected his mother to go another way. Maybe succumb to her illness and overdose on her medicine, or even be so out of touch with reality that she accidentally walked out in front of a city bus. But to grab a cold, metal surgical scalpel and slice her wrists? That was something unexpected. He couldn't help but feel she had been manipulated into doing so by something, or someone named Aoyagi Seimei, he was certain. He didn't shed a tear for her. He'd done enough crying for his mother back when he was young and naïve and believed she loved him despite her abuse. He didn't feel the need to cry when he was informed of her passing, nor when they read her will. He didn't feel the need to cry during the funeral or the burial. Even weeks later, when life was starting to get back to normal and people stopped giving him sympathetic looks over his mother or his breakup, he wasn't entirely certain which one they felt worse for, he didn't feel the need to cry. His mother was gone. That was just a fact of life for him. He didn't need to dwell on it. He was too numb to feel the pain, anyway.

Relationships meant nothing. Friendships were starting to dwindle into oblivion. Yuiko and Yayoi knew what they wanted to do for a living, were aware of what they were able to do, and focused the rest of their high school years on following those paths. Ritsuka quickly found himself in classes with Zero and the stoners and slackers, taking just the basic courses he needed to get out of school and move on with his life. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Kio and Akira weren't breathing down his neck and forcing him to make a choice so young like so many other kids complained their parents were doing to them, and his father sure as hell wasn't going to try and push him to find a career path. He'd wanted to be a photographer, back then. Back just after he moved in with Kio and Akira, when they were discussing college together, he'd toyed with the idea. But now the camera felt heavy in his hand, the unused, undeveloped rolls of film burned his skin. He had no reason to smile, no reason to make memories or preserve them for eternity with his lens. Photographic happy people on special occasions or empty fields didn't appeal to him the way they sued to. For now, he was just going through the motions; waiting for Soubi to come back and doing the bare minimum to survive. He still got the best grades, however, but that didn't mean he needed passion or a career directive. Several career days passed without much consideration from the neko. He didn't care to learn about the professions people had come to talk about. He didn't want to walk around the booths at the career fairs held in the cafeterias. His class sizes dwindled. People picked paths and set out to take specific classes for them. Only a dozen or so were left behind in most classes. He knew everyone by name and face now. He sat with them at lunch while Yuiko fawned over fake baby dolls with the students in her child psychology class, and Yayoi sketched rough outlines with his friends in the art club and drawing III classes. They laughed and joked, and he through in a well-placed nod or a laugh here and there when appropriate. Ever faithful, Zero never left his side. He knew they would grow to be the one constant in his life. He needed help with battles and spells? They were there. He was bored and went on a walk around Tokyo, they were there. He lazed about in his room doing homework or playing video games, they were there. Kio and Akira never made them leave, never told them to get lost and go back to Soubi's otherwise empty apartment they'd been staying in since they were twelve-how no one noticed they were alone after all these years was beyond him-though they adamantly proclaimed they weren't allowed to move in. they slept over, they stayed for dinner, they debated with Kio and Akira about trivial nonsense long after the sun went down. They were like a bad rash; always there, never leaving. They were attached to him, he knew. He was attached to them as well, in a way. They were similar whether or not they liked to think it or discuss it in any company, let alone pleasant one. They didn't need anyone but one another, he didn't need anyone but them. They were his friends, his guides, his mentors; the only things he had from the mostly carefree days before Soubi left. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like it or that they bothered him. He knew it, they knew it. They were just wise enough not to voice it.

His father only came back in his life to ask him to come to his wedding. The divorce from his mother was tossed out with her death, the marriage nullified by a quick slip of a knife on porcelain skin. He was free to marry his mistress, free to start a new family. He could do what he wanted. Why he bothered to invite a son he didn't care about was beyond him, but he went anyway. For the woman, if not for his father. She hadn't done anything to him, though she had been the woman his father was cheating on his mother with. Their relationship drama wasn't his concern. She invited him to stay with them or come and visit overnight at the rehearsals, much to the behest of his cousin, who's family was staying with them for reasons she wouldn't tell him. He denied the offer. He need to be able to come and go freely. He needed to be able to get lost and let his mind wander at three am when no one was around, and take long baths in silence while his roommates-for lack of a better term-were out on long dates or working, maybe even in class. He couldn't be tied down with a whiny step brother who didn't care one way or the other about him being there. He didn't need to have to answer to Maiko's annoying questions about this and that, always picking on him about money though her family seemed to now have none and need to live in his father's guest bedroom. How pathetic. He didn't have to sit down and _talk_ with his step mother, get to know her better. He didn't need to be surrounded by his father's disapproving looks at how he dressed, how he acted. He didn't need any of that. He needed the space and stability that Akira and Kio provided, that he'd gotten so used to. She'd contact him almost daily with an offer to do this or that, and he'd almost always refuse. He'd go food shopping with her or accompany her to some work functions her father was too busy working through to attend. His relationship with his step mother, Amia, grew to be better, closer, than his relationship with either of his own parents. He talked to her about guys and dating, and schoolwork and his friends. He told her about Soubi, insisting he wasn't a pervert when she raised an eyebrow at the age gap he'd mentioned only in passing. Age was nothing to him. Soubi could be sixteen or sixty and he'd still love him for him. his ears were real, Soubi wasn't around; it didn't matter anymore. She was polite enough to not say anything to his father, but did encourage him to move on. She said he'd feel better if he did. He knew he wouldn't.

Try as he might, there was still that empty hole that Soubi left in his heart. His brother be damned. His brother be damned to the deepest pits of hell and back. Soubi was the one he cared about, the one he missed and longed for. He'd spend vacations in Gora, at the Academy or the Hot Springs they sent unwanted guests to. He'd search for clues, dig through what he and Septimal Moon knew to try and find them. Seimei and Akame could stay here or go to hell for all he cared. Soubi was who he came for. Senior year rolled around. He still didn't have a career path, didn't have an inkling of an idea of where he wanted to go. Yuiko and Yayoi were both taking college level classes for early credits so they could graduate sooner. He could see them growing closer and closer, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't a part of their world, wasn't a part of them, anymore. It wasn't that he didn't care. He just acknowledged and accepted that they were moving on with their lives without him. He stopped going to the Academy. He ignored Ritsu's calls and Asitai and Nana's emails, and Mikado's texts. He stopped searching for Soubi, for the one thing, the one person, that would remain unreachable until the end of his days. He didn't want to admit the depression was coming back. He didn't want to sink into that pit again. Amia had unsuccessfully tried to convince him to return to therapy. Katsuko-sensei checked in with him. He put on his act, made her think things were fine and that he was climbing _out_ of his six-year rut instead of sliding _down_ into the pit of insanity he was being pushed towards. Taro tried to rekindle things, other boys and a few girls tried to ask him out. People he met in stores or on his walks tried to give him their numbers. He didn't care for any of it. He had Zero. He had Akira and Kio. He had Amia. And most of all, he had his name. He had _Loveless_.

Graduation came and went. He went to a few parties thrown by his former best friends and some of his classmates. He felt out of place at Yuiko's house around her new friends, he felt awkward not having anything to talk about with Yayoi's manga buddies other than the one summer he helped Hanabi at Comiket-turned out one of his friends was a major fan of hers and asked if he could get an autograph for him, but the raven turned it down, claiming he didn't know where she'd gone post-graduation. Nagisa-sensei invited himself and the Zero boys to the Academy for the academy's graduation program. He was offered a job, Seimei's old job. Zero were offered to come back and take up their old positions on what Ritsuka called _assassins_. He turned her down. Zero elected to stay. They wanted to do what they sued to, wanted to be useful to their sensei again. He returned to Tokyo, to Akira and Kio's apartment, more alone than he'd ever felt. He had a sip or two of champagne with them and chowed down on bento and leftover graduation cake. He fell asleep on his own that night, feeling his hard shell encase him once more. Without Zero, without his constant, what did he have left? A step mother he talked to on the phone more than saw, a father and step brother that wanted nothing to do with him, and a name on his skin. He hated that name, loathed that name. _Loveless_. What a terrible name. He said it back then, he said it now. But here in his room, alone with nothing but the blankets to keep him company on this cool summer night, the name never felt more fitting.

Osamu got a place in Tokyo so she could go to Ato college with Akira and Kio for photography. She insisted he belonged there, tool. She insisted he fill out applications and meet with entrance counselors. He insisted she shut her mouth and mind her own business. Like his old friends used to be, she was persistent. Her second year there, he did what she asked to shut her up. They gave him a tempting offer of a full scholarship for their photography program, with a fast track option to graduate a year in advance with Osamu. They offered him a dorm and a meal plan. He turned down the dorm and the meals, but h took the offer of classes. He didn't enjoy them. His classmates knew nothing of the basics. It bored him. They went over simple thigs so many times he wondered if just forcing the knowledge into his classmates' heads would be a more beneficial approach. The assignments were simple, basic. He wasn't challenged. Like in high school, he was just going through the motions. Amia offered him to be the photographer for her baby shower, with full pay and letting him use shots he took there for any fitting assignments. He should have turned her down. He didn't.

He graduated with honors and Osamu and his new fried Kai-a cute, somewhat feminine boy around his age with big, round eyes, and a cheery disposition that Ritsuka often found tiring-at his side. His father and step mother came to his graduation with his step brother and half-sister. Akira and Kio acted like the proud pseudo-parents they had been for him most of his life; Kio fawning and taking one too many pictures while Akira gave exasperated sighs and begged him to stop. Zero showed up half an hour late, dragging the majority of Septimal Moon with them. The surprise on his father's face when his old friends, his old allies, showed up in full support of his _son_ was priceless. He was offered job with Septimal Moon and the Academy again. And again, he declined. That place held too many nasty memories that he'd rather forget; his brother's reappearance and escape, Ritsu being blinded, his first fight against Akame, the first time he shared a bed with Soubi. He'd rather be anywhere else. He knew they wouldn't give up until they died, but he'd turn down offer after offer in the meantime. Yuiko and Yayoi weren't there, both busy with their respective lives and career paths. Seimei didn't have the balls to show up and cause drama. Soubi wasn't there. He couldn't be, wouldn't be even if he could.

He finally moved out of Kio and Akira's place several months later for an apartment closer to the Kyoto-Tokyo line with Kai and Osamu. They made descent livings together, made a descent home and lives for themselves. He spent his weekends reminiscing in Yokohama and his weekdays trying to rekindle the little spark left inside him that was still his previous self, the self he'd been between his memory loss and Soubi's betrayal. Zero stayed over once or twice a month, sometimes more if they had business in the area. Yuiko called or texted once and a while, inviting him out for drinks. Yayoi showed up on his doorstep one night, crying that his girlfriend had left him high and dry with only a box of his belongings for some guy she met at work a month prior. He wasn't certain why he had chosen to come to _him_ of all people, but he let him in. eventually the trio became a quad. Yuiko stopped calling, stopped texting, beyond birthday and holiday wishes. Yayoi still pined over her and begged her to hang out, but she claimed that her schedule at the preschool she opened with a couple classmates kept her too busy for anything but work, food, and sleep. Kio and Akira celebrated every birthday, every holiday with massive parties at the house they ended up buying just on the other side of the Kyoto line from where their _son_ and his friends lived. He felt like it was stalkerish, but he was secretly grateful that they kept close, kept an eye on him. Yayoi eventually gave up on Yuiko when a drunken mishap under the mistletoe found himself and Osamu in a rather compromising situation that Zero would pick on them about for years to come, long after their wedding had ended and they got their own place. One day Zero came for work and they just never left, taking up residency in Yayoi's old room. Osamu's remained empty.

He'd wasted away most of his life wallowing in depression, hiding from the world, hiding from himself. He'd spent most of his life alone, jealous of couples he saw and his happily married off friends-Yuiko married the father of one of her preschool students about two years after Yayoi and Osamu tied the knot-being nothing more than a lone wolf. Nothing more than _Loveless_. He was comfortable, that was the only acceptable word for it. Things came and went, people came and went. His constant companions were back. He actually looked forward to jobs and returned flirting from guys he'd run into in clubs or just out and about. He still missed Soubi. No one spoke about him or his disappearance. No one talked about Seimei or asked if he was _okay_ anymore. Septimal Moon stopped harassing him, stopped offering him jobs. He helped Zero out with various workings for the organization when they needed it, but that was as far as his contact with that part of the world went. Units didn't come looking for him, no one confronted him or tried to fight him. He finally had a chance at some sort of normal life. Kai's advances became tempting. He was in his twenty-six when he finally gave in and tossed those damned ears away for a quick, sloppy one night stand with his friend. Zero teased them about their friends with benefits style relationship until Kai settled down with a guy from high school that he ran into on an ice cream run for the roommates and moved out about a year later. They were alone again. Just him and his constants, him and his Zero.

Thirty. He was thirty years old when someone waltzed back into his life as if nothing had happened. Thirty-eight did not look good on the blonde that he still silently obsessed over, he decided. It was a chance encounter, neither were really _looking_ for one another. He was visiting Nagisa-sensei with Zero for her birthday and had wandered off when the party got too uncomfortable between her screeching and Ritsu's poorly veiled attempts at romantic gestures and a cheesy proposal. He wasn't certain why Soubi was there. And frankly, he didn't care. So many emotions assaulted him at once as the floodgates that had been holding back his heart and his tears all these years exploded like an overfilled dam. They just stood there, neither saying a word, both trying to figure out whether the man in front of them was real or merely an illusion created by their lonely hearts and confused minds. Soubi didn't look like himself. A scar ran over one of his eyes. His hair was cropped shorter than it ever had been before, and his eyes were duller. His glasses were missing, and his clothes were rumpled as if he hadn't put much thought into his appearance when he got up that morning. There were bags under his eyes that didn't belong there, there were scars visible on his arms where his rolled-up shirt sleeves failed to cover. The bandages around his neck were gone, as was the crudely carved name that he bore most of his adult life. The raven supposed he didn't look much like himself either. Eyes hardened from years of the abuse and tough life lessons shoved down his throat, hair long enough to be kept in a high ponytail when he wanted, faded jeans and dark band shirts did not make the twelve-year-old Soubi left behind. The world stopped around them, not even the cheering at the party that suggested Ritsu finally asked his damn question breaking through the silence that had encased them. Was this a spell?

"Ritsuka…?" Soubi was the first to speak.

Ritsuka blinked. "Soubi?"

They stared, neither saying another word. Seconds ticked by, minutes, a half hour. Maybe more, maybe less. No one came looking for Ritsuka, nobody called Soubi's phone. He wasn't certain who made the first move, but suddenly he was in Soubi's arms again, soft lips pressing forcefully, passionately against his. Moans, clacking teeth, the fumbling with shirt buttons. He had to see, had to see for himself. Where had Soubi's name gone? Where did Seimei's mark, the mark of _Beloved_ go? What was in its place? Was it just wishful thinking? Was Soubi just finally set free? Fingers found a side marred with wounds, some fresh. Raised bumps spelled out the name he hated most, in the exact same location as his body bore. His knees couldn't hold him, his mind couldn't stop spinning. They shared a name. After all these years, Soubi was his again; all his.

"How…?" He breathed.

"I bound myself to you." Soubi whispered, lips finding his again.

"What?" Ritsuka pulled back just enough to stare up at the blonde. "The hell are you talking about? You're bonded to Seimei."

"A superficial bond of fear, marked by his blade." Fingers slid under his shirt that suddenly felt too thin to brush against the name on his skin. "He ordered to me to recite the spell, to bind myself to him. He learned much too late that it was you I chose…"

"Where have you been all my life…?" A lazy smile. "So much has happened, I have so much to tell you."

"He wasn't happy with my choice."

"That's all you're going to tell me, isn't it."

Silence.

"I can't hate Seimei any more than I already do."

"I was punished."

"I want to see."

"Most wounds have healed." Soubi indicated a few light scars on his arm. "The rest I cannot show you."

"Why not?"

"I'd much rather keep my clothes on in public, should I not?"

A blush. He hadn't felt this way in a long time.

"He didn't…" Eyes drifted south.

He tiled up his neko's chin. "That's in perfect working order."

"I'd be…disappointed if it weren't…"

A smirk was his only warning before he was slammed up against a tree, fingers roaming up under his shirt, tweaking at pert nipples, lips on his neck. He moaned, slipping his fingers in through blonde locks of hair.

"Soubi…" A breathless pant.

A small jolt across their bond forced the fighter away, the back of his hand to his mouth. Ritsuka panted, face flush.

"I have a room here…"

Ritsu and Nagisa's makeshift wedding disaster came and went quicker than anyone could blink. Soubi took up permanent residence in Ritsuka's bed, so long as he didn't break his heart again under threat from Zero and Osamu. What started as a bittersweet reunion began to melt the ice walls around Ritsuka's stone heart. He felt reborn, renewed, invigorated. He could laugh freely again, he could smile earnestly. He could say he loved his life and mean it. Seimei be damned. Their world of spells and bullshit be damned. He had what he wanted, what he needed. He had his friends, he had Soubi. His father was starting to make an effort, his step brother warmed up to him. His half-sister was starting to date, terrifying their father and forcing both of her brothers and Soubi into overprotective brother mode. Yayoi and Osamu were expecting twins, Yuiko and her husband had a one year old daughter and another on the way. He touched base with Hitomi just after Soubi came back, letting her know he was okay and that Soubi was back. She'd breathed a huge sigh of relief and let the tears flow, blaming it on hormones from her third pregnancy. He was only partially surprised to come back from vacation with Soubi one summer to find Yoji and Natsuo in a rather compromising position on the sofa in the common living room, which Soubi declared needed to be thrown out now.

Their wedding was well planned, a short ceremony followed by a long reception full of guests who didn't know when to go home- red; Zero. Family came, friends came, Seimei and Akame didn't show up. Their honeymoon took them away from home for two weeks and returned them to an apartment full of friends and a ring on Yoji's finger. They eventually ended up having the place to themselves, as the boys thought it was weird for two married couples to live together. Their departure left room open when his sister came to them bawling because she was too afraid to go home after a positive pregnancy test. They held a family meeting, forcing Aidien to be quiet until she was finish talking and to not pass judgment. He'd taken it well and she went home with him that night.

He didn't she a tear when his father died. Scream out his frustrations to Soubi about how unfair it was that he was given so little time to reconcile with his father, yes, but not cry. He didn't cry at the funeral, even when Maiko bad mouthed his father, who had taken her in and given her family shelter when they had nowhere to go. He didn't cry at the cemetery. He'd seen enough death and despair to not be bothered by it. Amia never married again, preferring to instead help raise her grandchild so her daughter could get through college and make a life for herself and her baby. The father never came around, leaving her alone. Ritsuka would be lying if he said he didn't want to go bas the guy's skull in, but he didn't want to be Seimei. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

He had no idea what became of Seimei after Soubi left him. He'd seen Akame wrapped in his friend Mimuro's arms a few times out in town, but they never spoke, not of him. but Ritsuka couldn't care less. Seimei could go off and ruin someone else's life as much as he wanted, as long as he left his brother's alone for once in his life. He didn't need his interfering. He could have been dead as far as Ritsuka was concerned, and the world might just be better off. He knew Septimal Moon would. Ritsu was first to pass, his friends following one by one after in the upcoming years. Zero cried to Nagisa, Soubi cried for Ritsu. Ritsuka shed a tear of Asitai and Mirai and Nana. They took over. Ritsuka finally succumbed to his fate, being left Septimal Moon and the academy in Ritsu's will. Zero took over Nagisa's spot, and Mikado kept her own. Ritsuka invited Breathless to join, but they had retired after their child had been born a few years ago and wanted no part in the business. Despite their protest, they came around when the time called for it, when it was important. Three missing, Septimal Moon dwindled just to its core three Sacrifices and their Fighters. Their new order rose to power and earned respect quicker than any of them could have hoped for. Ritsuka's pacifist nature meant that Units no longer had to fear the sixth seat of Aoyagi, not the first. He completed Seimei's old job while running the organization from the inside. He was quite surprised that Seimei never came to try and threaten his control. Pleased, but surprised nonetheless.

His third high school reunion found him lying to his old friends and classmates about what he was doing with his life. They understood he ran a school, but they didn't know how far his control ran. People bragged about their big city jobs and retirement options in the countryside, talked about the accomplishments of their children and marriages and _grandchildren_. Ritsuka only gave out the bare minimum of information. Half the people he went to school with didn't show up. He recognized Taro and a bunch of kids he'd been on the basic track with throughout most of high school. A few students moved to other prefectures, a couple to Europe, and even one to America. Everyone knew the gossip about everyone who wasn't there. Hushed words were spoken, loud laughter was had, and Ritsuka could finally introduce the blonde he'd spent so long pining over to them as his _husband_. No one was shocked, but he did see a look of disappointment cross Taro's features, though he had his arm around the waist of a pretty redheaded girl that Ritsuka was _certain_ they didn't go to high school with. He announced it would be the last reunion he was planning on attending. There were hollow farewells and heartfelt wishes of the best. Yuiko promised to stop by more, and Yayoi and Osamu promised to invite them on vacation with them that spring. Ritsuka knew that the promises were somewhat empty. No one ever meant what they said at this kind of thing, after all.

He learned a few weeks later through Akame that Seimei had finally passed. The world was finally rid of the curse named Beloved. A grave marked as so sat at the edge of the cemetery where Ritsuka's parents were buried, and where he'd eventually find his final resting place. He visited it once after finding out that his brother passed, leaving a single black rose.

He had spent so much of his life being alone, so much of his life hating the world and being depressed and miserable. He hated people he used to love, he loved people he used to claim to hate or be angered by. He barely knew who he had been, let alone who he was or would be. He'd spent so many years being a stranger in his own life, his own skin. Once he learned to be okay by himself and accept his friends' help, he was able to move on. Soubi left at the wrong time, but came back at the right time. their relationship was as explosive, as passionate, as it had been when they first met. Right up until the day Soubi passed away, leaving Ritsuka and their friends in his wake, they were the perfect couple, or as perfect as one could get in a relationship. Ritsuka placed fresh flowers and art pieces at his love's grave once every month, stopping to visit and groom it once or twice a year. He chose and designated an heir to take his place in Septimal Moon a few months before he found himself laying in his own death bed. He was one of the last of his friends to see the light of day. He closed his eyes as his chest stopped moving, heart stopped beating. His sister cried, her children and husband cried. His students cried. The funeral was lively and full of love, considering Maiko was banned but never showed up anyway with her family. One of her kids stopped in for condolences, but that was the most anyone would see from the Aoyagi side of the family.

When Ritsuka opened his eyes, drenched from head to toe in white, Soubi was waiting for him.


End file.
